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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059545">you knew the game and played it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>im not a dream apologist i just like angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fights, Final Goodbyes, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Prison, Prison Warden Sam | Awesamdude (Video Blogging RPF), breaking up, dream is in prison everyone point and laugh, except its not really breaking up because they were never together tbh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:00:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059545</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You've done a lot of awful things."</p>
<p>He stared at George through heavy-lidded eyes, and an amused chuckle tore from his throat, hoarse and low.</p>
<p>"You act like I don't know that."</p>
<p>- title from the song wires by the neighborhood</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>im not a dream apologist i just like angst [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you knew the game and played it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ayo u should follow me on twitter @EARTHT0M4RS<br/>i want clout<br/>please</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cascading lava illuminates his silhouette with a harsh amber glow. His footsteps are growing louder against the blackstone floors that lead to his cell, where its inhabitant remains photo-still. </p>

<p></p><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>He knows better than to try anything.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>He didn't want to say it, but he was afraid of the warden.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>Sam was... an interesting person, to say the least. He was a nice guy; he strolled aimlessly about, offering easy smiles to those he stumbled upon and wishing them a good day. He provided resources without hesitation to those who needed it, and was willing to help them with their tasks if he was asked to do so.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>He was kind, sure, but people were yet to see the other side of him.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>The side he had been exposed to. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>It was only once, but it was a side he never wanted to face again.</p>
  <p>He'd made the mistake of trying to trick Sam, to slip past him and attempt to escape - not the prison itself, no, just his cell.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>He wanted to experience the thrill of someone hunting him down again. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>Only, he hadn't even gotten the chance to start running. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>The moment Sam had become aware of his intentions, he was thrown forcefully to the ground and the blade of a sword had been pointed at his throat. Sam's eyes had been so full of fury and malice that he was sure he would've killed him right then and there, and he was scared shitless. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>Since that interaction, every time Sam had sauntered into his cell to give him his "meals," he hardly even dared to move with the fear of it resulting with a blade at his throat.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>That sure as hell wasn't about to change now.</p>
</div><p>"Sam," he greeted curtly - it was both an instinct and an act of formality by now.</p>

<p></p><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>The footsteps came to a halt. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>The faint bubbling of the continuous streams of lava filled the silence that followed.</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>"...Sam?" he tried again, his voice timid. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>"Hello, Dream. Long time, no see."</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>Dream's head snapped up. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>
    <em>It couldn't be, there was no way in hell it would be-</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>"...George."</p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>For a split second, a flicker of hope was ignited in his chest; maybe George was here to break him out of here. </p>
</div><div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
  <p>But George had never been a hero, and nor did he pretend to be one. Besides, this wasn't some sort of fairytale. He wouldn't get a happily-ever-after, and he isn't desperate enough to think otherwise just yet.</p>
  <p>"Long time, no see," he echoes, like some sort of broken record player.</p>
  <p>"I had planned to come and visit you sooner," George comments idly, after a beat of silence that was a <em>little </em>too awkward spread over them. "I wanted to talk to you sooner, but you left a bit of a... <em>mess...</em> out there."</p>
  <p>"Well," Dream says slowly, steadily, "you're here now."</p>
  <p>George sends him an icy glare, and his voice is sharp and cold when he speaks, slicing through the still air. "I never said I wanted to be."</p>
  <p>Dream can understand that, he understands why people wouldn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be here. But he doesn't understand the reason for the bitterness in his friend's tone.</p>
  <p>George's expression wavers, and he looks at Dream like he's able to analyze what's passing through his head.  </p>
  <p>"You won't get out of here alive," he says simply, like it's a well-known fact, "not unless you start changing back to who you used to be."</p>
  <p>It's funny to hear that, and Dream almost laughs. It's funny, because he wishes he could change back to who he used to be - apathetic, upbeat, enjoying the early days of summer with his friends and caring for nothing at all. He'd been attached to them, but he didn't understand the concept of that back then. Slowly, though, as he watched the people around him grow attached to various things, he became aware of his own attachments, and he was aware that he destroyed them; each and every one of them, one by one, until there was nothing. </p>
  <p>He understood now, and he desperately wishes he didn't. </p>
  <p>"I didn't change," he scoffs, even if he knows the defense is pointless. </p>
  <p>"You did," George argues calmly, "but I'm not here to debate over this. I'm here to talk."</p>
  <p>"If you're here to try and change my mind about something, to change <em>me, </em>it won't work," Dream warns him, "If you think you're going to fix something, you're wrong. I know you're all insistent on your <em>'it's worth a try'  </em>bullshit, but this - this is <em>not," </em>his words are tight, controlled. It's all he can control anymore, "<em>I'm </em>not."</p>
  <p>"I'm not here to change something," George states firmly, "I just want to ask you a few things."</p>
  <p>Somehow, that's worse. </p>
  <p>"Tubbo told me about what happened. The day you were locked up," he says quietly, "The day it all happened. He told me everything."</p>
  <p>George began chewing on his bottom lip; it was a nervous habit he'd slipped into ages ago now.</p>
  <p>"Don't you.. hurt from all you've done?" he asks earnestly. </p>
  <p>Dream doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say. It was all lies, which were impossible to believe no matter how hard he tried to tell himself they were true.</p>
  <p>"You said you'd given up - I mean, you <em>did </em>give up everything to gain what you had, but you've lost it all now," George points out, "You gave up your friends, your pets, your freedom; you even gave up me and Sapnap."</p>
  <p>Dream remains silent.</p>
  <p>"I just want to understand where it all started going wrong for you, and why you didn't come to me or Sap for help, or even just advice," George says empathetically. </p>
  <p>Where <em>had </em>it all started going downhill for him?</p>
  <p>He wished he knew. </p>
  <p>Dream lowered his head. "I fucked up, George, I - I really fucked up."</p>
  <p>"Yeah. You really did," he confirms, sounding bored. "I bet you feel like an idiot, all locked up like this. I know this wasn't the way you wanted things to end."</p>
  <p>"I fucked up," Dream repeated in a hushed tone. "What have I done?"</p>
  <p>"You've done a lot of awful things."</p>
  <p>He stared at George through heavy-lidded eyes, and a sad chuckle tore from his throat, hoarse and low.</p>
  <p>"You act like I don't know that."</p>
  <p>Fire ignites in George's eyes, "then why did you do it, Dream?"</p>
  <p>Dream merely scoffs, head tilting back to hit the wall, "It doesn't matter."</p>
  <p>"It does," George argues, "it matters to me. It matters to me because I need to know if it was fucking <em>worth it," </em>he spat, "I need to know if there was a reason behind you doing all of this shit, or if it was just for your entertainment."</p>
  <p>Dream didn't say anything. Shame and guilt were coiling around him, suffocating him.</p>
  <p>George took a step back. He knew.</p>
  <p>Dream didn't need to say anything. His silence was enough.</p>
  <p>"You're a fucking psychopath. You knew what you were doing the entire time, and you fucking <em>enjoyed it." </em></p>
  <p>George was raising his voice, but he didn't seem to be aware of it. </p>
  <p>"It was fun for you to watch us all suffer. I could see it your eyes. I didn't notice it back then, but I realize it now! I remember, and you can't get into my head and tell me otherwise, like you had been doing to that poor kid."</p>
  <p>Dream's eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't get a word in.</p>
  <p>"Yeah, I know about him," George chuckled darkly, "Ranboo, isn't it? You'd been putting voices in his head, trying to control him. You convinced him that he's done all the fucked up shit <em>you </em>are responsible for. Don't even get me <em>started</em> on all you've done to Tommy and Tubbo - I know about them, too, you manipulative piece of shit. I know about everything you've done, Dream, and I honestly don't know why I've stuck with you for this long. You knew what you were doing the whole time - you knew the game you were playing, and you thought that you won."</p>
  <p>Dream's expression was almost comical; his mouth was slack, and his eyes were wide open; it was the personification of pure helplessness. </p>
  <p>"I..."</p>
  <p>Dream's words seemed to be tangled in his throat; he was speechless. He'd never seen George so enraged before - no one had. </p>
  <p>"I'm sorry," he managed to force out. </p>
  <p>"Oh, you're <em>sorry," </em>George mocked, "As if <em>sorry </em>would fix all the shit you've done."</p>
  <p>"I want to change, George," he says, voice shaking. George nearly laughs; he can almost hear the manipulation lacing his words like some sort of poison, "I want to."</p>
  <p> "No, you don't. It's not even worth trying, you said so yourself - that you weren't worth it, and you know what? I really believe that now."</p>
  <p>"George, <em>please, </em>I-"</p>
  <p>"Fuck you," George cuts him off, laughing bitterly, "Fuck you for what you did to all of them. It's over, Dream - whatever it was between us, it's over now, and it's over for good. Done. Gone. I can't keep thinking of you as my best friend, because this isn't the Dream I know and love. I hope you fucking rot in here, because it's what you deserve. You're a psychopath. You're like puppet master tied up by his own strings, and you fucking deserve it. If you somehow make it out of here alive, don't come running to me or Sapnap. You're on your own."</p>
  <p>He stares at him for a second more.</p>
  <p>He doesn't feel a sliver of empathy towards him, and he <em>loves it.</em></p>
  <p>"Goodbye, Dream. It's over," he muttered, letting out a shuddering breath. "It was never meant to be."</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i wrote this at 5am and im running on 2 hours of sleep so this is probably shit but oh fuckin well</p></blockquote></div></div>
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